


Lies

by Shota_cat



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor Needs A Hug, Gay Connor Murphy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, I’m not good at this, Larry is an asshole, Sorry guys, Suicidal Thoughts, this is why we can’t have nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shota_cat/pseuds/Shota_cat
Summary: What if Connor didn’t kill himself that day?(The hurt-no-comfort fic that no one needed.)





	Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Evan Hansen, its plot, and its characters do not belong to me.

Connor brushed his hair out of his face with his fingertips and sighed as he got up from the hood of his car. It was getting dark and school started the next day, which meant he had to be home soon. 

He swore loudly at the thought of going back to that place for another year. He got a few weird looks from people around him, but Connor couldn’t bring himself to care. He walked over to the green garbage bin to throw away the wrapper of his mostly eaten sandwich, shoving the rest into his mouth. At least he was able to eat something tonight besides his mother’s sorry excuse for food. Honestly, he did love her but her ‘experiments’ were beginning to get on his nerves. 

As he walked back to his car, he felt around in his pocket for the small metal object he knew was there. He doesn’t bring the pocketknife out of his jacket pocket, but he closes his fist around the object, his mind racing. 

Someday he would finally off himself, but the sinking feeling in his gut told him that today was not that day. ‘One more day,’ he told himself. It was what he had been telling himself for a while know. Connor honestly didn’t know why he was putting it off for so long. 

Okay, that is a lie. He did know the reason, and the reason was him. Connor didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning, of getting what he had been wanting for.

Connor opened his car door and got inside, mentally preparing for another dinner with his family. The ride back to his house always went by so much more quickly than he wanted it to, and this time was no exception. As Connor approached his house, he sighed in relief as he saw that his father’s car was not yet in the driveway. He parked the car in the car and entered the front door. 

“Larry? Is that you?” Connor heard his mother call from inside the kitchen, which was emitting a strange odor. 

“It’s me, Cynthia,” Connor yelled back as he closed the front door and slid off his shoes. He made his way to the stairs, but was met by his mother standing in the doorframe of the foyer. Cynthia looked at Connor with a look of concern in her eyes.

“Where have you been all day, Connor? You said you would be home hours ago!” Connor took a deep breath, trying to control his temper while he was being interrogated by his mother. It was useless, he would be viewed as a failure whether he was able to control his outbursts or not. 

“I’ve been out.” Conner looked his mother in the eye before stepping around her in hopes to head up the stairs to his bedroom. 

“Your father and Zoe will be home in a few minutes,” Cynthia tells him as he passes by her. Connor grunts in acknowledgment as he passes by her. 

Connor enters the empty doorframe of his room, the door having been taken away after he broke one of the hinges in his last outbursts. According to his father, a bedroom door was a ‘privilege.’ Connor looks around his dark bedroom, his clothes sprawled out on the floor, a half-empty bottle of black nail polish on his nightstand, and his mattress lumpy from all of the sketchbooks hidden underneath. 

After a few mere minutes passed, Connor hears the front door open. Shit, they’re home. 

“CONNOR, it’s time to eat!” Zoe shouts up the stairs. Without bothering to answer, Connor made his way down the stairs and sat down at the dinner table. His father’s dark glare was making his arms itch. Man, he really needed to smoke. 

“How was your day, son?” Larry questions in a civil tone, with an angry look on his face. Connor doesn’t look up from the vegan mushroom casserole his mother had made for dinner. 

“Fine,” Connor mumbles through gritted teeth as he picked at the casserole. He pretended not to notice the concerned looks on the faces of both his mother and his sister. 

“Did you have a good time at the movies, Zoe?” Cynthia asks, trying to break the tension. Of course Zoe would go out with her friends, Connor thought to himself, her stupid perfect friends, perfect grades, and perfect life. In comparison to her, he was nothing. Just a problem to be fixed. 

“It was a lot of fun, mom.” Zoe breaks Connor from his train of thought. He looks up and his dad is staring him right in the face. The itching sensation on his arms had turned to bugs crawling all over, and Connor grips his thigh with his black nails to keep himself from shaking. Larry raises one eyebrow.

“So, Connor,” Larry begins in that tone that makes Connor genuinely want to go jump off of a bridge. “School starts tomorrow, are you planning on going or being pathetic and skipping?” 

“Larry...,” Cynthia begins, with a disapproving look in her eyes.

“None of your fucking business, Larry.” Connor replies, gripping his thigh harder with his fingernails. Larry’s glare turned to a full-fledged scowl as he began to reply. 

“Now, I don’t think you want to talk to me that way. Just you wait-“ he’s cut off by Connor standing abruptly. Connor angry enough to flip the table over, right onto the man that has made his life hell for so long. Instead, he storms up the stairs and back to his bedroom. 

When he gets to his bedroom, he pulls a cigarette out from his dresser drawer and lights it as he opens his bedroom window. Almost instantly a wave of relief and relaxation runs through his body. It might just be a placebo at this point, but Connor can’t bring himself to care either way. 

About an hour passes, and Connor finds himself watching YouTube under his covers with no intention of sleeping at all. Sleep brings nightmares, and he’d rather just deal with exhaustion the next day. Connor is startled out of his thoughts by the abrupt voice speaking at him in harsh whispers. 

“Larry?” Connor’s lack of sleep is present in his voice. He tries to make sense of what he is hearing, but he can’t make out the jumble of words over the blood rushing in his head. Suddenly, Connor feels the impact of and open hand on his face. Shit, that had hurt.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” Connor makes out over the thoughts rushing through his head. The last time Larry had actually hit him was years ago, and that had been bad. Connor supposed this was one of the many times he actually deserved it though, with the way he had been treating his mother lately. Maybe he would kill himself tomorrow if they were going to fall back into this old routine. God knows he wasn’t going to sit and take it silently like he had back then. To Connor, that period of time feels like both just yesterday and a lifetime ago, and there is no way he was going back into that life.

“What the fuck?” Connor mumbles angrily, wiping a hand over his tired eyes, lingering on the bruise already beginning to form on his face.

“You’re toeing the line, Connor. One of these days you are finally going to cross it.” What the hell is his father talking about? 

“What-“ Connor begins. 

“Try to control your behavior. You’re not five anymore.” With that, Larry exits Connor’s bedroom, probably to drink. Connor falls into an unsettled slumber until he is awoken by his mother.

“Good morning, Connor! You have to get up now.” Cynthia cheerfully smiles at her son, but her eyes show worry and concern as she makes her way back down the stairs. Connor groans and gets out of bed to pull on a pair of black jeans, not bothering to change his shirt. He walked over to his mirror and began to messily apply concealer and foundation to his face to hide the bruise from last night. It is times like these that Connor is thankful for his small stash of makeup. He quickly brushes his fingers through his hair as he walks down the stairs and takes his place at the breakfast table, pouring the rest of the milk into his cereal. 

“I’m not going.” Connor says flatly, looking down at his cornflakes. His father and sister barely notice that he has spoken at all. 

“Remember, Connor, we talked about this! It’s your senior year, you are not missing the first day.” Connor sighs, it seems like they had spoken about this a thousand times in the past week. 

“And I already said that I would go tomorrow.” Connor looks up from his cereal. “I’m trying to find the compromise here,” he adds, but he has already given up. When he tunes back into the conversation, his mother is going to his father for support. Of course. 

“You have to go to school, Connor.” Larry says in a monotone voice. 

‘Well,’ Connor thinks, ‘maybe if you tried to get me the help I need I could go to school without feeling like I might kill myself or somebody else every time I walk through those doors, and without blowing up at anyone that tries to talk to me.’ Realistically though, when doesn’t Connor want to kill himself? 

Connor feels anger rise in his chest when he hears his father accuse him of being high. He felt a sharp pang of betrayal when his sister agreed, and was numb by the time his mother asked him if he was high. Seriously, why did everyone think he was high all the time? 

“I don’t want you going to school high, Connor!” His mother’s exasperated tone caused Connor to lose all hope in the conversation being steered back to a civil topic. On second thought, what could you expect from the Murphy family.

“Perfect, so then I won’t go.” Connor’s comment only adds to the tension. Although, after all this trouble, Connor finds himself driving to school with a silent Zoe in the passenger seat. They approach the school, and Connor parks the car.

“Try not to get suspended.” She warns him as she gets out of the car. Connor swallows his anger as he watches Zoe walk towards the school. He gets out of the car, and enters the dreaded doors. As Connor began to approach his new locker, he hears voices. Just another reminder that he’s a freak that will always be alone. He shuts his locker and that kid turns to look at him. Connor tries to remember his name. Jared Kleinman or something, he was pretty sure. Kleinman opens his mouth to speak. 

“Hey, Connor,” the kid starts. “I’m loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.” What the fuck? Connor stares blankly at Jared. The kid standing next to him actually was pretty cute, Connor remembered him. Hansen, the one that always stuttered.

“Calm down, bud. It was a joke.” Kleinman is beginning to get on Connor’s nerves.

“Yeah, no, it was funny.” Connor says sarcastically. “I’m laughing, can’t you tell? Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” Geez, some people need to know how far is too far, Connor thought. Some jokes just cross the line. The thought of crossing the line made Connor’s stomach turn as he remembered the one-sided conversation last night with his father.

“God, you’re such a freak.” Jared started to walk away. Evan stayed still, and I was mesmerized. What if Connor were to talk to him? Maybe they could become friends, or possibly something more? No, Connor told himself, even if you do like Evan, there is no way Evan would ever want someone like him. Connor realized that he had been so deep into thought that he was staring at Evan, who was laughing nervously. Connor’s vision turned red as he realized that Evan wouldn’t want him. Even if Evan did like him for some reason, no one deserved to get caught up in the mess Connor called his life. 

As his vision cleared, Connor realized that Evan was on the ground. In his outburst, he realized, he must have pushed Evan. He was such a failure. If Connor was being honest with himself, maybe it was for the best. Anyone who he brought into his life would just end up getting hurt anyway. Connor touched the jagged scars running across his thighs through the fabric of his jeans. He then realized how much he was looking forward to finally killing himself one of these days, after tying up the few loose ends in his sad excuse for a life. Connor left Evan on the ground and headed to his first period class.

Connor goes through the rest of the day on autopilot, waiting for it to finally end. Since Zoe has jazz band practice, Connor goes to the computer lab to play pac-man. He will use any opportunity he can find to avoid going home.

He’s on his fifth round as he sees Hansen enter the lab. Connor tries to ignore literally the only person he remotely cares for, but to no avail. As Evan gets off the phone with his mom, Connor sees his chance to finally talk to the person who has been driving him crazy with these new feelings. He knew his mother had a yoga class this afternoon and Larry was off work, so Connor didn’t want to go home just yet.

A sudden noise startled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see that something was coming out of the printer. Against his better judgment, Connor picked up the document and walks over to Evan Hansen and attempts to start a conversation. 

“So, uh... what happened to your arm?” Connor looks at the ground. Why was he so bad at this? He looked up as Evan told his short story softly.

“I fell out of a tree.” Wait, seriously? Connor can’t help but laugh at this.

“You fell out of a tree?” Connor is still laughing. “Well, if that isn’t the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” This isn’t how you make people like you, Connor scolded himself. Of course he can’t get anyone to tolerate speaking to him.

“I know” Evan laughed sadly. Connor quickly tried to backtrack. He was blowing the only chance he would probably ever have to talk to Evan. 

“Uh... no one’s signed your cast.” Connor pointed this detail out, and it only seemed to make Hansen look more depressed. When Evan acknowledged this detail, Connor had an idea. “I will.” He ignores Evan’s stammering and asks for a sharpie. Connor writes his name across Hansen’s arm in large letters. 

“Great, thanks.” Hansen sounds anything but thankful. Well, Connor figures, if that’s how Evan wanted to do this...

“Now we can both pretend we have friends.” Connor says sadly, this wasn’t working.

“Uh... sure.” Evan begins to walk away, and Connor remembers the piece of paper in his hand. He calls after Evan, 

“Is this yours? I found it at the printer.” Evan turns around and looks at him in horror. “‘Dear Evan Hansen’? That’s your name, right?” As Evan starts to stammer a rushed explanation, Connor begins to read the letter. His eyes stop at the words ‘because there’s Zoe.’ “‘Because there’s Zoe.’ ...This is about my sister.” Evan keeps stuttering. Of course Evan would like Zoe, stupid ‘perfect’ Zoe. No one in their right mind would love him, the depressed bipolar ‘school shooter.’ Maybe Hansen saw his feelings, somehow, and this was some sick way to turn him down. “You knew I would find this” Connor accuses. 

“What?” Evan looks genuinely confused, but Connor has learned from experience that facial expressions can lie. 

Connor’s vision once again goes red, and next thing he knows he is shouting at Hansen, who is trembling like a leaf. Connor folds the letter and puts it into his pocket, and storms out of the lab. Connor thinks back to the stolen pills hidden in the glove compartment of the car parked outside the school. That’s it, he’s decided. Today will be the day that he finally kills himself. He doesn’t care that he would be giving into exactly what his father had been predicting for all of these years. Connor decides to drive to the park, to take one last look at the sunset before he does it. First, though, he has to make one stop.

After an anti-climactic drive, he unlocks the front door of his house. He has been waiting to do this for years. Connor gulps down his fear, it will all be over in a couple hours anyway, so fear is irrational. He knocks on the door of his father’s office. 

“What is it?” An irate voice comes from inside. “I’m busy.” Connor opens the door, takes a deep breath and begins to speak. 

“You’ve made my life a living hell for the past seventeen years, and I’m done. I’m done with all the pain, all the suffering.” Connor begins to laugh deliriously at the thought of just ...being gone. In a few hours, all of his problems will have been washed away. “I’m fucking gay and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Connor exits the office with a smirk on his face, finally ready to go kill himself after all this time. He hears the door slam open behind him, though, and he is knocked to the ground with a blow to the head. 

“You’re such a disappointment. I’ve sacrificed so much for you, and this is how you repay me?” Larry begins to drag Connor to his room by his hair. Connor tries to get up, but his vision is still spinning. He looks up at Larry and sees the same disapproving glare he has seen all his life. 

“What the hell?” Connor is still kind of out of it from the blow to the head. When they get inside Connor’s room, Connor feels pain everywhere. He thinks Larry is kicking him, but he can’t be sure. 

“Disappointments like you don’t belong in this household.” Larry takes of his belt and Connor’s breath hitches as memories from his childhood come rushing to the front of his mind. Blinded by a mixture of fear and rage, Connor begins to yell.

“GO DIE, ASSHOLE!” He goes to his bedroom window. No way in hell would he go through this again.

Before Connor knows what is happening, he can’t breathe. At first he thinks he is having another panic attack, but no. His father is strangling him with the belt. Connor thrashes around and tries with no success to claw the belt from around his neck. After a few minutes, it’s all over. 

Larry attaches the belt that is still around the neck of Connor’s lifeless body to the clothing rack in his closet. He sits still on his son’s bed until he is broken out of his trance by the opening of the front door. 

“Larry! I’m home!” Cynthia yells from the foyer. Larry immediately starts crying. The ability to cry on command had ended up coming in useful after all, who knew?He makes his way downstairs and wraps his arms around his wife, who is very confused.

“Cynthia, it’s- it’s Connor.” Larry sputters. “Cynthia, I’ve been such a terrible father!” Cynthia’s face distorts in a mixture of denial, horror, and grief. Larry begins crying harder and rests his face on his wife’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. He... he’s killed himself.” 

 

 

Epilogue 

Zoe looked out of the car window at all of the trees they were passing by. It had been a little over a month since Connor killed himself, and the Murphy family was surprisingly doing fine.

Cynthia and Larry were in couples therapy, per Cynthia’s request, and they were arguing less. Zoe had been dating Evan for a few weeks and their relationship was going really well. At first he had seemed strange, almost as if he was hiding something, but that was probably just his anxiety. The only thing missing in Zoe’s life was Connor.

There was something at the back of Zoe’s mind that had been annoying her, though. Something she’s been choosing to ignore for the past month. Larry said that Connor came home pretty much right after school ended, and Zoe hadn’t heard about any fights at school.

So where did Connor’s body get all those bruises?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys.  
> First of all, sorry.  
> Secondly, I was not entirely sure about posting this, as I did not feel that it was my best work. Please comment and tell me if you liked it, or what I could do to revise my writing style and get better at this.  
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
